Why Can't I Get
by LaLainaJ
Summary: Caroline's doing another tour of Europe, this time with Enzo in tow. They picked up Kol along the way and he refuses to be left behind. They're a bad influence and it's totally their fault that Caroline ends up stealing a 12 priceless works of art. One of the paintings isn't what it seems. Enter Klaus and a game Caroline's determined to win even if losing has its own appeal.


**Notes:** So my drabble for AU: Right Time, Right Place spiralled out of control (not a shocking turn of events, I know!). I didn't have time to get the last few bits written or edit the whole thing so I figured I'd break it up. Here's the first part! Fair warning it includes Kolenzo as a side pairing (they're basically murder friends with benefits). I'm also using it to clear out a couple prompts. The one included in this chapter, "He still has a sketchbook full of drawings of Caroline and she finds it." Title from "Add It Up" by The Violent Femmes.

 **Why Can't I Get (Part One)**

If only her mother could see her now.

Liz Forbes would have had _a lot_ to say if she was around to see Caroline silently creeping through a darkened estate, dressed in sleek black clothes. She cringed thinking about the disappointed face she would have surely been on the receiving end of if her mother were still alive.

Funnily enough it probably wouldn't have even been the crime that her mother would have found most objectionable. It was the fact that Caroline was breaking and entering (and planning on stealing) in the company of two vampires who were pretty firmly the 'bad' kind. Plus, they were completely unapologetic about it, took great pleasure in mayhem and the whole eating people thing.

While Caroline still considered herself a good vampire, didn't murder for fun, she found that the older she got the more difficult it was to hold on to her once uber strict judgements. The world had become a much greyer place once she'd ventured out of her tiny, comfy corner of it.

Caroline has learned to value loyalty over most other things. Enzo hadn't let her down once in decades (it had taken her awhile to forgive him for his Lily Salvatore fueled actions but Caroline had been able to grudgingly understand his motivations – hadn't she cut Stefan an awful lot of slack largely because he'd been the one to help her understand what being a vampire was?). Kol was… well, Caroline was still feeling Kol out. The only thing she knew for sure was that things were never boring when he was in tow.

Their current activities? Mostly his fault. Really, the bulk of the tight spots and ridiculous shenanigans they'd gotten into lately could be chalked up to Kol's lack of impulse control. Caroline told herself she just went along with his plans to ensure that the bloodshed and property damage were kept to a minimum. She'd never admit to having _fun_.

Whatever. She deserved to let loose. Enzo too and Caroline was pleased that he'd begun to smile more, had rediscovered a little bit of his old self. His odd quietness hadn't sat well with Caroline though she understood the reasons he was so subdued.

Loss was never easy and Enzo had little experience with losing people he truly cared for. He was mourning and Caroline knew better than anyone just how hard it was to miss Bonnie Bennett.

They might have separated years and years ago, once it became clear that Bonnie wanted a little human normalcy, a career, maybe a husband and a couple of kids. Not things she could have with Enzo. He'd loved her even if he'd accepted her choice and Bonnie's death, at the ripe old age of 87, followed quickly by Damon (and Stefan) taking the cure to become human had been a lot for him to deal with. When he'd shown up on her doorway, single duffle bag in hand, Caroline had immediately directed him to her second bedroom. And then she'd fished out her very best bourbon.

They'd drunk to Bonnie, joked about how awful a human Damon would make. Killed the bottle, and another, before they'd staggered to their beds.

Healthy? Probably not. Good thing they didn't have to worry about their livers deteriorating. As far as coping mechanisms went it seemed like vampires were limited to booze and violence and Caroline thought alcohol was the better option. Enzo was game to try though he soon got restless and Caroline had rolled with it, decided she didn't mind tearing up the tentative roots she'd set down in Toronto. They'd grabbed the first available flight, had ended up in Italy.

Caroline had dragged Enzo out to a restaurant she'd known of – it had a secret, vampire friendly, menu – and that's where they'd met Kol.

Sometimes the world was weirdly small.

Apparently though Klaus had been the one to turn the chef, he'd been a friend of Kol's first. A good thing, Kol had said, mixing blood and food was an art and it would have been a shame for his recipes to die with the rest of Kol's line.

Kol had invited himself to join their dinner and hadn't seemed to notice Caroline's polite (and then not so polite) attempts to get him to beat it. And then he'd just kind of… stuck. A week later she'd known she was doomed. Kol and Enzo had started a bar fight in Munich that had almost leveled a building, laughing and comparing notes on fighting techniques. It was the most animated Caroline had seen Enzo in far too long.

At that point the trip Caroline had assumed would be mellow had turned into a whirlwind courtesy of Kol. They hoped countries regularly and Caroline had to admit he knew some incredible spots. Late nights and sleeping in have become the norm, decadent brunches and opulent hotels. She'd tried protesting in the beginning but Kol had scoffed. He liked to say he was celebrating his return to the living. Caroline was skeptical since he'd been back for like eight decades now. How much celebrating could he actually do?

Stupid question, Caroline knew. Kol loved a good party, and himself, with an intensity that was something to marvel at.

After a couple of weeks Caroline hadn't even minded Kol's company. Not something she'd ever anticipated happening but she could honestly say that about a lot of things in her life. Really, coming to enjoy Kol Mikaelson, maybe even consider him a friend, was _hardly_ the weirdest turn of events she'd experienced over the last century and a bit.

The part where Kol had somehow convinced Caroline to become an art thief ranked considerably higher on the surprise scale.

He's a little ahead of her, leading the way through the ridiculously huge house they were technically trespassing in. He'd charmed a maid yesterday, gotten the layout down, pinpointed the things they were after. He'd had quite a good time too if the little extra swagger and smirk he'd returned with was anything to go by. Caroline was a little jealous, if she was being entirely honest. She'd never say so, of course. Kol had _finally_ stopped propositioning her. While she was like 80% sure he wasn't serious about it (for Klaus related reasons he'd drunkenly alluded to and Caroline had been trying not to think about) she quite liked the lack of leering and icky suggestive word play. The only good part about being on the receiving end of Kol's come ons was all the cool old-timey synonyms for sex and genitalia she'd learned.

Even if Kol _had_ been genuine Caroline never would have gone there. Not only because the Klaus thing made it messy but because she'd learned her lesson about screwing around with people your friends were also screwing a long time ago. It had taken her a few tries but it was a firmly entrenched principle now. Neither Kol nor Enzo had said anything about whatever it was they were doing but they weren't exactly quiet and Caroline wasn't an idiot.

Whatever. As long as they were just having fun (and considering they were both hooking up with other people on the side – again _not_ quietly) she'd save her shovel talks.

Getting invitations for the three of them into the home had been a pain, requiring them to track down and compel the owner of the estate. He rarely used it and lived a couple hundred miles away. His son, the pampered douchey _creep_ who had the run of the property had been really displeased about daddy dearest's impromptu arrival.

Which had given Caroline no small amount of satisfaction. She'd overheard him whining about having to cancel the nightly parties that he threw (cocaine fueled and doing all sorts of boosting to the local sex work economy) while his stern, traditional father was in residence. The dad hadn't even been there long, only three days, as he'd been compelled. Even that tiny amount of time was the worst of impositions for the pampered, petulant brat.

Caroline had met her fair share of repulsive men but something about this guy made her skin crawl.

They'd come across him when Kol had managed to swing invites to one of his parties. Not Caroline's usual scene but she hadn't known it until she'd gotten there. The first time she'd met the resident party boy he'd offered her money for sexual favors. Caroline had no problem with women making a living however they chose but it was kind of rude to assume someone was a prostitute. Frankly, the sum he'd offered had seemed like a lowball. An insulting one. Then he'd had the nerve to push his way into her space and attempt to get handsy when he'd been shot down. Three strikes Caroline had thought. She'd pasted on a saccharine smile and reached for him, fought down a gag as she'd gotten a whiff of his awful cologne as she'd compelled him not to make a sound.

She'd left him slumped in an alcove, arm broken in at least three places. Caroline wondered how he'd explained the cast on his arm to his father.

While Caroline could handle herself (and she had) the encounter nagged at her. She'd been tempted to go with Enzo's suggestion and kill him but Kol had proposed they have a little fun instead. She hadn't been able to resist once he'd laid out his plan. The guy was only 23. Even with his sketchy party habits he probably had some years left in him. Might as well make him miserable while he lived them.

The family had some kind of title, something that the son boasted about on the regular. Along with oodles of money from a shipping business and about a half a dozen other publically traded companies. The father was really into art, had the best collection in Greece, maybe even in all Europe.

Key word being _had_.

The works they were stealing from this house might not be his _entire_ collection (no, he had several other properties, each with million dollar works prominently displayed) but it would make a hefty dent in it. Caroline imagined all the money and privilege and freedom the repulsive son enjoyed would quickly evaporate once his father was told of the loss.

She'd layered on some handy compulsions too before he'd passed out from pain. Just enough to ensure that he wouldn't be getting laid unless he managed to find a reserve of decency and charm that she was pretty sure he _did not_ possess.

She'd stayed up all night with Kol and Enzo painting crude renditions of the paintings they were liberating (none of them were all that great at oils or watercolors as it had turned out. Kol had gleefully been texting Klaus pictures and his disgusted commentary on their technique had been highly amusing). She'd done her best not to laugh, unwilling to give either Enzo or Kol the satisfaction. They took far too much pleasure in subtly needling her about her unwillingness to set foot in England (where Klaus currently resided). She'd shut down Scotland, Wales, Ireland _and_ Northern Ireland too. Maybe that was overkill but things tended to get a little… out of hand when she saw Klaus. He had a way of putting her at ease, making her forget her vows to keep things fun and casual. Sex was fine, deep conversations in the wee hours were _not_ and they somehow kept happening.

Caroline liked her life, thank you very much. She didn't want to miss his stupid face and wonder about what he'd think of the sights she was exploring. Keeping a body of water between them seemed like a solid plan for now.

Kol's voice cuts through her deliberations, "Let's stay on task, darling."

She shakes herself, meets his expectant gaze and unrolls the canvas she's holding. Like the others it's gotten a little smudged, having not been quite dry when they'd packed it up. Oh well, it really did enhance the 'kindergartener finger-paints the great masters' aesthetic their complete lack of skill had forced them to go with.

Kol's eyes are on the final painting they're planning on stealing, "There's something off about this one."

"Off?" Caroline asks, "What do you mean?"

"Not sure," he murmurs absently. He takes the frame off the wall, deftly separates the fragile painting from its backing. "D'you have that flashlight you insisted on bringing?"

Caroline bristles. _Now_ he wants to make use of the things she'd brought? He and Enzo had mocked her 'cat burglar kit' the entire drive over, insisting that nothing in her bag would be necessary and that their supernatural abilities were more than up to the task of pulling off a heist. "Obviously," she sniffs, fishing it out of her bag and slapping it in his palm.

"Don't pout, Caroline. Your face will freeze that way. Then you might actually have to pay for a drink occasionally."

Not for the first time Caroline was sorely tempted to kick Kol in the shin. She refrained, because he'd probably find it hilarious. She knew there was also a good chance that it would hurt her more than it would hurt him and how was that fair?

She grits her teeth but Kol's not paying attention to her annoyance, bent over the painting he'd spread across the small hallway table. He's got the flashlight turned on and he's scanning the very edges of the work under the light. Finally he stills, clucking his tongue, "Niklaus you sneaky bastard," he mutters, sounding exasperated.

She casts a glance over her shoulder, half expecting Klaus to stroll up behind her, smirk in place. He _would_ be insufferably pleased with himself for having crashed their adventure. However the hallway remains deserted and Caroline lets out a soft sigh of relief. Which quickly turns to confusion. Turning back to Kol she asks, "Wait, what? What did Klaus _do_?"

"Yesterday, I thought this one was strangely familiar. From more than just that tedious lecture you made us sit through about your research." He beckons her forward, tapping his finger in the corner.

Caroline leans down to examine where he's indicated, immediately spies the miniscule 'N.M.' that's etched in the very edge of the paint. She straightens, eyes narrowing, "So you're telling me that this is a…"

"Forgery? It certainly is. A good one but I know Nik's style better than most. I'm sure I've seen the original hanging in one of the houses. Should we leave it? Maybe take another?"

Caroline bites her lip, head tipping to the side as she thinks. She'd planned this whole thing to _perfection_. Had even posed as a temp to get access to the insurance files to see exactly what this collection had entailed. She'd freaking made coffee and taken dictation. She hadn't done that sort of grunt work in ages and _really_ hadn't missed it. She'd then carefully researched each piece that was said to have been housed in the Athens property and had carefully selected the ones they'd take. She'd picked the three most expensive, three that were the owner's favorites and six that she just thought were the prettiest.

Hey, a girl needed to start her fancy art collection with things she liked, didn't she?

Leave it to Klaus to manage to fuck up her plan _years_ before she'd even set it in motion. Caroline was not going to allow it. "No, we'll take that one," Caroline says firmly. "I like it and I want it. I put in the work. Klaus will just have to cough up the real one."

Kol's eyebrows creep up, his expression incredulous, "Nik's not really one to 'cough up' something he doesn't want to. He won't murder you because he's oddly squelchy for your pretty blonde head but I doubt he'll just hand it over if you say pretty please."

Caroline would bet that if she asked _really_ nicely Klaus could be convinced. While that would certainly be _enjoyable_ Caroline has a better idea. A tiny, evil, _genius_ one. God, Kol and Enzo really were the worst influences. Had her contemplating a life of crime.

Should she really be so excited at the prospect? Probably not. But screw it, Caroline was pretty sure her mom would look the other way about the crime doing considering she was going to be stealing from Klaus.

She grins at Kol, sly and mischievous, and intrigue bleeds into his expression. She adopts a tone of innocence, "Where exactly did you say you'd seen the original painting?"

He throws back his head, a laugh booming out. Caroline quickly shushes him, glaring severely and tuning her ears to see if they'd disturbed anyone. Did he forget that they were in the middle of something _delicate_? Something meant to be covert? Sure, they could easily outrun anyone who gave chase, evade human law enforcement easily enough, but Caroline's plan involved them getting out _cleanly_. They were set to be on a private plane heading for Austria before sunrise.

Their destination might need a little adjusting to accommodate this new wrinkle.

Kol's not the least bit intimidated by her ire. "You want to _steal_. From Niklaus," he seems disapproving but the past few months of travelling together have given Caroline a certain amount of insight. Kol's totally in.

"Is it really stealing if he stole it first?" she counters sweetly, adding the smallest bat of her lashes for good measure.

He snorts, snapping his fingers and holding out his hand. "Yes. Yes it is."

Caroline throws away all pretenses of wheedling. She hands over their crude copy before throwing up her hands. "Whatever. I'm doing it. You can come or we can go our separate ways. Just tell me where _my_ painting is. I'll figure it out."

"Possessive little thing, aren't you?" Kol muses. "That explains quite a bit."

"Kol," Caroline grumbles.

He takes his time with the painting, making a show of stepping back and adjusting the frame to ensure that it's straight. Caroline carefully packs up Klaus' fake to occupy herself before she crosses her arms, knowing she's got no choice but to wait it out. Kol could be annoyingly immovable once he was set on something.

Finally he's satisfied, stepping back and taking her arm. He loops his through hers, towing her down the hallway towards the stairs. She bites her tongue, tastes blood, resisting the urge to pepper him with more questions. It'll only set her back.

 _Finally_ , once they're at the front door, after he's opened it for her with a dramatic flourish and a bow, Kol speaks. "I _think_ it's in the New Orleans compound."

She's not sure she likes the hesitancy. "Think?" she parrots. "As in you don't _know_?"

Caroline glances to the side, sees Kol's face is scrunched up in thought. "It might be in the Montmartre place. Maybe in the winery's house in Mendoza? Honestly, Nik's taste is deplorable. So dark and pretentious. Almost as bad as Elijah. It all sort of blends together in my mind."

She's tempted to defend Klaus (and his taste - she still has the dresses he'd selected for her) but doesn't want to give Kol any ammunition for his taunts about the repressed feelings for Klaus he's convinced she has (the ones she vehemently denies. She'd not about to admit something huge like that to _Kol_ of all people). Caroline spies Enzo leaning against their rental car, and picks up the pace. "Okay, that's not ideal, but at least we have something to go on. Let's try Montmartre first."

Kol nudges her with his elbow, and Caroline stumbles slightly at the force of it. She slaps his arm away, speeding up in a futile attempt to outpace him. She hears him laugh and his next words are mocking, "That's awfully close to your no fly zone, darling. Are you sure you don't want to give South America a whirl?"

Caroline refuses to dignify that with a response.

* * *

"Is this seat taken?"

Caroline stiffens, instantly recognizing the voice right before the familiar scent of his skin reaches her nose. Damn him and his sneaky, quiet feet! She forces her shoulders to relax, rolls her head to the side so she can see him, "Help yourself," she drawls, attempting to seem nonchalant. Then she lifts her hand to get the bartender's attention. She's so going to need a refill.

Klaus settles onto the barstool and she can feel his eyes on her. She'd always been able to, the way his eyes greedily drunk her in almost a palpable caress, impossible to ignore. It unnerves her that he's here. Klaus is almost never the one to seek her out and she wonders why he's choosing _now_ to break that streak. His next words, an attempt at small talk, have her suspicions growing. Had Kol ratted her out? "How do you like Paris, Caroline?" Klaus asks, "As I recall you've said you've only been here the once."

A truth. She'd only ever visited the first time she'd been to Europe. Barely twenty, and on her own, she'd dived in and hadn't slept more than a few hours a night for weeks. She'd _loved_ it and yet she'd always shied away from returning.

Her reasoning isn't something she wants to dwell on. _Or_ discuss with Klaus. "It's beautiful," she tells him simply before getting right to the point. "What are you doing here, Klaus?"

They're interrupted by the bartender, and Klaus orders champagne. Caroline feels her eye begin to twitch. Nonetheless she takes the glass when it's poured. Refusing would be letting Klaus win and Caroline liked to avoid that. Thought it was good for him and his raging narcissism.

"I thought I'd check up on Kol," he answers easily. "Since he was practically in the neighborhood. It's been nearly a year since I've seen him last. I thought it best to make sure he'd not done anything unfixable."

"So you're _not_ stalking me?" Caroline presses a hint of distrust obvious.

Klaus makes a good show of appearing wounded, face falling into an exaggerated expression of hurt. Caroline rolls her eyes, and takes a sip of her (really freaking delicious) champagne. He sobers after a moment, a small smile playing across his mouth. His eyes remain sharp, focused on her face. "Stalking you is rather unnecessary at the moment, is it not? Kol's attached himself to you for whatever reason and I always know where he is."

Caroline nods in mock understanding, "Ah, so you're stalking your _brother_. Still creepy."

Klaus' reply is amused, "Hardly stalking. Who do you think pays the credit card bills? It took ages for me to convince Kol to stop compelling people every time he wanted something. It wasn't an issue in Mystic Falls but once he came back and moved on to bigger cities it became a problem. All the cameras. Luckily an unlimited supply of money works just as well these days. Eventually we converted him."

Caroline can't believe she hadn't thought of that. Looks like she was going to have to foot the bill for the rest of their trip if she wanted to have any hope of succeeding. She tried not to visibly grimace at the thought of the dent that would put in her carefully tended nest egg. Maybe she'd luck out and the mission Kol and Enzo were currently on, checking out the townhouse where the painting they were after might be hiding, would prove fruitful.

Her optimism is quickly dashed. It seemed as if Klaus had way too much time in his hands and was still far too perceptive for her peace of mind. He turns to face her fully, a calculative gleam in his eye. "You've just left Athens, correct? Dreadful business that happened out there. Quite the robbery. Have you read about it?"

Caroline supresses a forlorn sigh. Things just got exponentially more difficult, "Oh please, like you care about a robbery."

"Ordinarily no. But the stolen items are of _great_ interest to me."

She debates playing along, feigning ignorance. He knows something, she knows that he knows something. He knows that she knows that he knows something. While she's certain that she'll slip first – Klaus did have more than a millennium of machinations and manipulations under his belt – she's equally certain that she could string this out for a good, long, while. That Klaus would play as long as she was willing.

Caroline decides she can't be bothered. Maybe she'll catch him off guard and manage to finagle something useful out of him. "I have read about it. The theories are ridiculous. But then, it's not like the press knows how compulsion works so I guess I can't blame them for how _wrong_ they are."

He's only momentarily taken aback, barely a flicker of it evident. Klaus face soon lights up and he chuckles warmly, "Caroline Forbes, admitting to grand larceny. As I live and breathe. How far you've come, love."

She brushes off his words, refuses to take them as the compliment he'd clearly intended them to be. "Cut the crap, Klaus. You know as well as I do that one of the paintings stolen wasn't stolen by _me_."

The angelic expression he adopts is hilarious, and Caroline presses her lips together to keep from cracking a smile. Damn it he was annoying. "Hmm, do I?" Klaus says.

Of course he's going to be infuriating. "You do. Kol spotted your initials. Kind of cocky, don't you think?"

"An artist always signs his work," Klaus proclaims arrogantly.

Caroline leans forward quickly, a hand knotting in the front of his shirt. Klaus' eyes widen the smallest amount though she'd not have noticed if she hadn't been inches from his face. "I want it," she tells him evenly. "I did the work."

His hand lands on her bare arm, glides softly along her skin until he reaches her hand. He pries it out of his shirt, though he does not release her, the rough pads of his fingers tracing her palm. Caroline refuses to be distracted. "I did plenty of work," he says. "An exact copy isn't exactly simple, you know."

"I'm going to get it," Caroline tells him, firm and _sure_ , and maybe that's a mistake.

Klaus' eyes heat up at the challenge, and his fingers thread through hers. "It's not here," he says and Caroline scrutinizes his face hoping to see a hint of a lie. There's nothing, not that Klaus _couldn't_ lie to her if he wanted to. Nonetheless she's certain he's telling the truth. Klaus had never really lied to her and she doubts he'd start now. "Kol and your little friend will come back with bad news, I'm afraid," Klaus continues.

Ugh, it couldn't be that easy, could it?

She narrows her eyes, "How do I know you're not going to do something weaselly like move it?"

"That would be most unsportsmanlike, wouldn't it?"

"Yes," Caroline deadpans, hefting her glass to take a sip, "because when I think about good sports yours is the _first_ name that comes to mind."

That gets another laugh from him, his blue eyes bright with genuine good humor. "How I've missed our delightful conversations, sweetheart. It really is a shame that you avoid me so strenuously."

Caroline blinks, swallowing quickly. She's going to need something stronger. And soon.

"I don't avoid you," she denies.

"Lie," Klaus shoots back. "The few times that I've come to you you've made excuses and immediately put several countries between the two of us. I've learned patience. You seek me out occasionally, and I am quite happy when you do, but I know you, Caroline. You've got a very detailed set of rules about me in your lovely little head. I'd like you to relax them."

"I'm sure you would," she mutters sarcastically.

"And to that end," Klaus continues, as if she hadn't spoken, "I won't move the painting. If you get it, you win. We'll keep playing your games, with your rules, for as long as you wish. I do, after all, have plenty of time."

She mulls it over, "And if you win?"

Klaus smile is sharp, dimples carved deep into his cheeks, "If I win I add a rule or two of my own."

It sounds simple but nothing with Klaus ever is. She doesn't trust that smile. "Like?" Caroline prods.

"You stop running. You deign to be seen in public with me, perhaps even in the daylight. You don't slip from my bed and expect me to pretend to sleep through you tip toeing out of my house."

Caroline isn't stupid, she knows what he's demanding. Klaus wants a shot, a real one. He's aiming to convince her that he should be something more than just someone she reluctantly calls her friend (and that's a term she usually only uses in the privacy of her own mind) whom she fucks on occasion. He's still got his sights set on last love and she's shocked at the complete lack of alarm she feels as the realization settles.

That was probably a big flashing sign, wasn't it?

She doesn't answer right away, reaching passed Klaus for the champagne. She refills her glass, tips the bottle in his direction in a silent question. He wordlessly offers her his flute and Caroline pours. When she's done she picks hers up, taps it against his. He's wary, holding himself very still. She clears her throat, straightens her spine, and meets his eyes because she's _not_ a coward. "You have a deal, Klaus."

* * *

They finish the champagne. Klaus, perhaps reading her mind, or maybe just unwilling to miss the opportunity to get an opponent drunk and pliable (as if she'd ever let a silly little thing like intoxication loosen her lips about the plans she had brewing) then orders a bottle of whiskey so smooth that Caroline _knows_ she would have balked at the price.

Kol and Enzo come crashing into the bar when they're halfway through. She'd coaxed Klaus into explaining just why he'd gone through all the trouble to copy that particular painting which leads to a discussion of others he's done. She's unsurprised to learn that there are many, that he takes it as a challenge to attempt to master wide and varied styles. They both turn to look at the commotion and she'd bet a good amount of money that Klaus' liquor cabinet is considerably less full than it had been hours ago judging by the volume and unsteadiness Kol's displaying. He spots Klaus and Caroline immediately and makes a beeline to him, mowing over several poor human patrons who were too slow to clear his path. Enzo follows, his boots crunching in the broken glass of a waitress' upset tray.

Caroline sinks low into her stool, wishing she could pretend like she didn't know them.

"Brother!" Kol greets boisterously, slinging his arm around Klaus. Klaus' face grows irritated and he attempts to shrug Kol off. Kol seems determined, however, and manages to hold on, leaning heavily. "I'd say it's been far too long but I was just beginning to enjoy my freedom. I do hope you're not here to dagger me for leading your little blonde friend astray? You were so very testy when you learned I'd made her acquaintance."

Funny how he'd never mentioned that to Caroline. She pins Klaus with a severe look, about to demand the story, but Kol seems to be on a roll. He flings his other arm around her, hugging her to his side with a force that makes her ribs twinge, "Sweet Caroline will miss me something _awful_ , you know. Do you really want to piss her off? Set back all your careful progress?"

"She can't miss you if you _crush_ her," Klaus clips out, easily breaking Kol's hold on them both.

Caroline sucks in a relieved breath, rubbing her side, and meets Kol's eyes. He looks mournfully apologetic, and it sits oddly on his face. "I'm fine," she assures him. "Try to remember that some of us aren't super old, okay?"

Kol's drunken joviality quickly returns, "I'll do that, darling."

Klaus still looks vaguely murderous and Caroline decides it might be best for her to leave, lest Kol have any other slips. "Why don't you guys have a drink, catch up?" she suggests cheerfully though she drops the sunny attitude immediately. Her next words are pointed, "Have you met Enzo, Klaus? FYI he's one of my very best friends. Will take the top slot soon enough. Do not even _think_ about killing him or our deal is off."

Hopefully that will be enough. Drunk Enzo could be a bit of a wild card though so Caroline could only cross her fingers that he didn't go out of his way to irritate Klaus. She did not want to have to follow through on her threat but she absolutely would. She breezes out of the bar before Klaus can say much else or insist on walking her to her hotel. She's certain Kol will quickly monopolize his attention. He had a knack for that. She doesn't doubt that Kol has several heavily embellished tales of their travels handy and that he'll gleefully needle Klaus with suggestive remarks and taunts.

Kind of made her glad she was an only child.

She heads in the direction of the hotel, glancing over her shoulder to ensure she hasn't been followed. Once she's certain that neither Klaus nor Enzo or Kol are around she changes direction.

She has something to take care of before she's ready to tuck herself into bed. A proper 'game on' to address to Klaus.

She knows where his townhouse is, had entered the address into her phone when Kol had explained where it was situated. She even has an idea of the layout thanks to the interrogation she'd subjected Kol to on their flight. He'd complained, and mocked her for being obsessive, but Caroline liked to be prepared. Pulling up the map on her phone she quickly figures out the best route from her current location. She debates flashing, certain it'll be the quickest way, but the crowds on the street are beginning to thicken, and it would be far too conspicuous.

Good thing she'd thought to buy Metro tickets – another thing Kol had scoffed at.

It takes Caroline several minutes to figure out her stop – her French is _rusty_ , something she makes a note to work on – but with the help of a friendly college age guy, and after rattling off a fake phone number, she's soon on her way.

She'd expected actually getting into a place of Klaus' would be difficult, had fantasized about getting to do some badass spy style maneuvering to gain entry. Kol had quickly shot that idea down (kind of spoiling her fun in the process) by assuring her it wasn't necessary. At least for this particular property so Caroline was optimistic that her dreams of getting her Kim Possible on were only temporarily thwarted. Klaus, Kol had explained, had the place spelled so no humans could enter. Caroline had asked about vampires – perfectly logical, in her opinion but Kol had only laughed. Apparently the vampire community in France was well established, Klaus firmly entrenched no matter how long he was absent, and no one with half a brain or an ounce of common sense would risk trying to break into Klaus' home.

She'd ignored Kol's pointed look at _that_ proclamation. Who was he to judge? She had _plenty_ of sense.

Still, she holds her breath as she crosses the threshold, half expecting to be vaporized, or for some alarm to blare at the very least. She waits a beat, takes another tentative step forward when nothing happens.

It's almost anticlimactic.

Shaking the feeling off she strides purposefully towards the stairs. Klaus' room and studio, according to Kol's crudely drawn diagram, are on the third floor. That's where she's headed. She's going to steal something though she hasn't decided exactly what it should be yet. It has to be small enough so she can conceal on the train ride home but it also has to be something he'll miss. Something that's absence would be noted.

She wasn't trying to be subtle here.

She starts in the studio, finds it dust covered and appearing unlived in. White sheets cover the furniture, the heavy drapes are pulled closed. Caroline assumes it means that Klaus arrived and left in a hurry, hadn't bothered to settle in before tracking her down.

Steeling herself – because she _did_ feel a smidge awkward about invading his bedroom without an invitation – she leaves the studio. The door to his room is ajar and it looks barely more inhabited than the studio. There are only minor signs that someone had been there recently, a half drunk glass of wine on the coffee table and a suitcase partially unpacked.

Maybe she's going to need to switch gears.

She's not sure how long it's been since Klaus has stayed in this property, and while it's possible that he'll remember the exact placement of every knick knack and painting – super paranoid nutjob that he is – it's not a risk Caroline's willing to take. She'd come this far and her stubbornness (and alcohol soaked brain) won't let her leave without completing her decided upon mission.

She has a gauntlet to throw.

Glancing around the room, hoping for inspiration, Caroline's eyes alight on the corner of a leather bound book. It's familiar, something she's often seen lying about Klaus' bedside tables, even though she doubts it's the exact same book. He probably just found a fancy one he liked one time and bought them in bulk.

A note, she decides. That's what she'll do. He can't miss it if she leaves it on his pillow, can he?

Later, she'll tell herself that she didn't _mean_ to snoop. She was just looking for a blank page, it's not her fault that the sketches caught her eye. It's impossible to avoid recognizing your own face. She'd seen it literally every day and it had remained unchanged since she was 17.

It's harder to justify sitting down on the bed, and paging through the book carefully, examining the details of each image. Maybe it _had_ been the same book all along. It's only about half full, and each page is _her_. There's only a few from Mystic Falls. One of her in the prom dress Klaus had given her catches her eye. She's not sure how it's _so_ accurate given that (as far as she knows) he'd never seen her in it. She studies it for a long time, fingertip hovering over the painstakingly detailed beading he'd captured. There are several pages dedicated to that afternoon she'd spent with Klaus in the woods behind the Salvatore boarding house and Caroline tries to work up some outrage over the nudity but finds that she can't. Not with how beautiful the sketches are, how happy and _free_ she looks.

She hadn't often felt like that while she'd still lived in Mystic Falls. It had taken her months once she'd left to get over the guilt that she'd felt upon leaving, at doing something just for her. Even longer to realize how messed up that was.

The rest of the drawings cover the years since, the relatively fleeting moments she'd spent with Klaus. Always indoors, always alone, usually shaded to indicate low light. She goes through the book a second time, would probably have done it again if her cellphone hadn't buzzed, breaking through her reverie. It's a text from Enzo, wondering about her whereabouts, meaning he and Kol are back at the hotel.

"Shit," Caroline mutters, hurriedly standing up. She catches the sketchbook before it falls, flipping to the last page and ripping it out. There'd been a pencil tucked in the front cover and she grabs it before shoving the sketchbook back where she'd found it. She wishes she had time to think of something brilliant, something witty and taunting, but it's entirely possible Klaus will be here any minute. Her mind is _completely_ blank, words far out of her reach. She probably doesn't _need_ to leave anything, there's no way he won't smell her, given how fine-tuned his senses are, and how long she's lingered but she's come specifically to send a message. Letting out another curse she scribbles, "Did you eat your maid or something?" followed by her name, folding it up and leaving it in plain sight on top of his bag.

She figured mildly snarky and unemotional was the way to go while her head was still filled with his drawings, the revelation that he'd brought them with him. That he seemed to _always_ bring them with him.

That's going to take some serious processing.

Caroline flashes back downstairs, bolts out the door keeping her head down. She heads in the opposite direction that she'd approached from, unwilling to risk running into a returning Klaus.

She knows she'll see him, suspects it'll be soon with the new game between them. Klaus was every bit as competitive as she was, probably even more so. She's fairly certain he'll take her stunt as a side bet of sorts, that he'll retaliate in _some_ way.

Most people in Klaus' acquaintance would probably dread such a thing. Caroline can't wait to see what he does.


End file.
